


The Proposal (Based on the Movie)

by temporarytravesty



Category: Orphan Black (TV), cophine
Genre: Cophine AU, Cophine Romantic Comedy AU, F/F, The Proposal AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarytravesty/pseuds/temporarytravesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faced with deportation to France, high-powered book editor Delphine Cormier says she's engaged to marry Cosima Niehaus, her hapless assistant. Cosima agrees to the charade, but imposes a few conditions of her own, including flying to Canada to meet her eccentric family. With a suspicious immigration official always lurking nearby, the duo must stick to their marriage plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU based off of a pretty well known movie with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> (Read End Notes)

Cosima isn’t quite sure of how she got here: sitting side-by-side with the woman she has both fawned over and completely despised since she started working at her job twelve, long months ago. Cosima isn’t quite sure why Delphine picked her, of all people, to get married to. Maybe it was just “perfect timing?” But no, there’s nothing perfect about this entire situation.

 

Sure, Delphine wasn’t the worst boss, but she was pretty close– Cosima never had time off, she was on-call at all hours of the day (and night), not to mention the absurd number of times Delphine managed to cock-block her when things were heating up outside of work. As far as Cosima knew, Delphine was straight; hell– Delphine was as straight as they came, with hair always flat-ironed, nails painted a deep shade of crimson, as if she were out for blood, and an accent that could far too easily tear down the resolve of any man or woman (especially one particular woman) within ear-shot. So when Delphine looked at Cosima that one morning, with a look of pure awe that immediately turned into something much more sinister, the secretary knew she was fucked.

_“Cosima, come here,” commanded the Frenchwoman slyly, pointing to the spot beside her, faux kindness seeping through her teeth with every lilt painfully coating her words. The brunette gaped at her superior with furrowed brows. She was only supposed to rescue her from this meeting,_ _after all, not be swallowed up into it herself. Ms. Cormier didn't want to be in the room with her bosses and, quite frankly, Cosima didn't want to be near the woman (in the blonde's current state) at all._

_“I should really go… I have this paperwork–“_

_“Come here, Cosima,” Delphine repeated, cutting the woman off, frustration becoming more and more prominent with every errant piece of blonde hair that fell into the Frenchwoman’s line of sight._

_Cosima merely stood there, gawking at the other woman, attention eventually shifting to her other superiors in the room– the big bosses, CEO and Department Chair. Delphine sighed, marching towards Cosima and grabbing her small, clammy hand, forcing the woman to accompany her back to the center of the room._

_Cosima would be lying if she told you that having her hand held by Delphine wasn’t something she fantasized about before, but still, she couldn’t shake how forced this felt– how forced this was._

_Cosima tried to free herself from Delphine’s grip casually, but Delphine stubbornly threaded their hands together, smiling down at the shorter woman, and widening her eyes challengingly as if to say, ‘stop squirming, or else.’_

_“We have something to tell you,” offered Delphine to the two men across the room, upon tearing herself away from Cosima’s confused, horrified gaze._

_“We do?” Croaked Cosima so that only Delphine could hear. The other woman simply tightened her grip on the dreadlocked woman’s hand to shut her up, before continuing._

_“We didn’t want to announce it this way but…” Delphine trailed off, glancing down at Cosima vulnerably, removing her hand from Cosima’s and opting to throw it around Cosima’s shoulder instead, pulling her closer in the process. “We are getting married.”_

_Cosima choked on her own spit at that, trying to pry the taller woman off of her, only to feel Delphine’s grip constrict against her bicep, crimson nails digging in to the flesh found there._  


_“We are very excited and happy, right, Mon Cherie?” Delphine rubbed the American’s shoulder, attempting, in vain, to soothe the half-moon crescents her nails had left._

_  
Cosima concealed her yelp with a gulp, looking up into Delphine’s demanding, hazel eyes. The brunette closed her eyes incredulously, asking a deity she didn’t believe in, ‘why,’ and to give her strength, before verbally addressing the equally shocked men before them._

_“Yeah. Obvs. Totally happy and excited.” Feeling the Frenchwoman’s posture relax a little, Cosima brazenly added, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to shack up with this one?” She jabbed a thumb in the blonde’s direction, “I mean, she’s totally hot.” 'Gotta fight back a little, right? Might as well milk it,' she thought._

_At that, the taller woman became frighteningly still, forcing Cosima to wonder if she managed to turn the notoriously branded, ‘Ice Queen’ into stone._

_The two men chuckled heartily, the Department Chair a little more forcefully. The Department Chair directed his attention to Delphine, “Ms. Cormier, isn’t Ms. Niehaus your secretary? That’s highly unprofessional, no?”_

_Delphine snorted humorlessly, her smile barely reaching the sunspots in her eyes, “well, I suppose I wouldn’t be the first to fall for their assistant, isn’t that right, Ferdinand?” Delphine bit her bottom lip before adding, “it’s inevitable, non? Both of us being single with all the late nights in the office… and only the company of one another.” Cosima caught the other woman’s look of artificial affection before watching her quickly revert her attention back to the Brit._

_Biting his cheek, Ferdinand surrendered to Delphine’s pointed comment before offering the group a noncommittal, “mmm.”_

_The CEO clapped his hands gleefully, grinning wildly at the ‘engaged’ couple. “Delphine, I must admit, I had no idea you were seeing anyone, let alone gay–“_

_“–bisexual. I’m bisexual,” corrected Delphine boldly._

_“Ah, I see. Well, we all knew of Cosima’s preference–” Cosima snorted while the man continued, “–with her gawking at you all the time like a lovesick puppy.” Attacked by a fit of laughter no one else in the room seemed to be affected by, the older man regained his composure, adding, “I hope you’ll excuse me, this just has to be the most surprising thing I’ve heard in the past 10 years on the job.” The man sighed, shaking his head nostalgically, “well, I hope you both maintain some level of production now that the cat’s out of the bag.”_

_It was Delphine’s turn to chuckle now, this time releasing a genuine melody of laughter, causing Cosima, in turn, to grin, pink tongue poking out from between her white teeth. “Of course, Dr. Leekie. We are professionals,” Delphine nodded, tone dropping to a more serious level, “are we... good now?” Coming across more like, 'Am I done here? Can I go now?'_

_“Delphine, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Aldous?” Smiling, his eyes traveled between the two women, “of course, we’re good. Just make it official– and soon.”_

_Cosima’s eyes grew twice their original size as she moved to stop her glasses from sliding off her nose. “Uhm… what?”_

_Aldous directed his attention back at the dreadlocked woman before lifting his left hand from the surface of his desk and wiggling his ring finger. “Make it legal, Ms. Niehaus. We’re on a tight timeline.” Condescending Bastard._

_Cosima nodded slowly, eyes glossing over as she imagined what exactly she was to do._

_“Of course, we’ll head to the immigration office at the end of the day,” offered the blonde, beginning to walk out of Aldous Leekie’s office with Cosima in tow._

_“Ms. Cormier, why don’t you and your fiancé take the rest of the day off? Celebrate, get the paperwork done, relax; this is a momentous occasion,” asserted Leekie with another ‘full of it’ smile plastered on his face._

_“That is not nec–“_

_“Delphine,” silenced Leekie coldly, “I insist. This paperwork needs to be done.”_

_“Thank you, Dr. Lee– Aldous,” smiled Delphine before directing her attention to the other man standing by his side, “Ferdinand.”_

_As the women walked out of the office, the Brit offered the phoniest attempt at a “congratulations” Cosima had ever head. It wasn’t until the door shut to Leekie’s office that Cosima realized Delphine still had her arm around her. Moving from underneath her clutches, Cosima stared at Delphine, waiting for an explanation._

_The Frenchwoman rolled her eyes at Cosima’s expectant expression before strutting away, the sway of her hips temporarily distracting Cosima from all the incredulous stares her coworkers were shooting her. Once she finally began trailing after her boss, she could hear the murmurs of disbelief springing from within the labyrinth of cubicles in the center of the office floor, even though she knew most of them were engaging in a frenzied, shit-talking group chat encompassing the entire cubicle battle-bitches population on the floor._

**_“Nice, Niehaus.”_ **

****

**_“What the fuck? We were supposed to get coffee today.”_ **

**_“Didn’t she cancel a date with you last night because of Ms. Cormier?”_ **

**_“Ugh, yeah. I fucking hate players.”_ **

**_“I honestly didn’t see Cosima as one…”_ **

****

**_“Makes total sense now. No one in their right mind would work for that woman with this pay.”_ **

**_“How long do you think they’ve been together?”_ **

**_“I mean, the whole time, definitely. Her job has shitty pay and she literally has the shittiest job. Imagine working with boss ass bitch Cormier all day?”_ **

****

**_“What a waste.”_ **

****

**_“I need a porno of them– like yesterday.”_ **

**_“That’s fucking disgusting, bro.”_ **

**_“Nah, it’s nature.”_ **

****

**_“The Ice Queen, really? Cosima could do better.”_ **

**_“You think so? I mean, she is really fucking hot.”_ **

**_“Yeah, but Cosima is so… lively and positive. It’s so different from…”_ **

**_“The Ice Queen?”_ **

**_“Yeah, exactly.”_ **

****

**_“Ms. Cormier is gay? Plot twist of the year.”_ **

**_“No way, maybe bisexual?”_ **

**_“I mean, this is Cosima... Cosima could turn anyone.”_ **

**_“True… I mean, I’d totally hook up with her.”_ **

**_“You do realize we’re exclusive, right? Sandy?”_ **

**_“Relax, Ryan. I’m just saying she’s attractive.”_ **

**_“Mmmm. Kay, whatever, babe.”_ **

_Cosima did the best to avoid the stares of her peers, her cheeks flushing in the process, mind spinning._

_“What the fuck was that?” Questioned Cosima the second the door to Delphine’s office clicked shut behind her._

_“Excuse me? I am still your boss; you will watch the way you speak to me. Do I make myself clear?” retorted Delphine assertively._

_Cosima kept her face neutral, only nodding once the Frenchwoman raised an eyebrow challenging the brunette to respond in any way other than positive._

_“Good.”_

_Delphine rolled behind her desk and began organizing the files Cosima hurriedly tossed there earlier._

_“Excuse me? Are you going to explain what’s going on?” Cosima spoke a little louder this time with strained composure. The Frenchwoman met her eyes, annoyance sizzling on her skin._

_Delphine pursed her lips, the mound of flesh demanding Cosima’s complete attention before speaking smoothly. “We are getting married.” Cosima folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow demandingly. Sighing, Delphine submitted herself to Cosima’s demands for information. “My Visa is expiring and I cannot renew it for another year. Meaning I’d get deported and sent back to France. The only way I can keep my job is by marrying an American, i.e. you.” Delphine (re)stacked the files in front of her before adding, “you’re the only choice I have…”_

_Cosima blew out a large breath of air, biting her cheek and shaking her head unbelievably, dreads casually swaying from side to side. “I’m your only choice?”_

_“Merde. I don’t spend enough time with anyone else here… and you walked in at the perfect moment. I had no idea what I was going to do,” offered Delphine sincerely._

_“Ms. Cormier, I get that we live in Cali, but that doesn’t make it okay to fake a gay relationship– let alone a gay marriage. Forget about the fact that this shit is hella illegal and I could go to jail, I just can’t get fake married to another woman,” Cosima finished exasperatedly._

_Delphine had to catch her mouth from falling open, managing just in time to trap her bottom lip between pearly white teeth. “But you’re gay?”_

_Cosima was speechless, not because she couldn’t think of a decent response, but because she had too much to say– vulgar words and spiteful comments tumbling over and around one another inside her brain. “No, Ms. Cormier– I mean, yes, I’m gay but–“ she sighed, sliding her palms down the length of her own face in frustration. “California started allowing gay couples to get marriage licenses in 2008. It’s not even bad enough for you that I’m– that we’re breaking the law, but you have to completely shit on the LGBTQ community in the process as well? Frankly, that’s bullshit and I refuse to abandon my values to protect someone who has done very little good for me.”_

_Delphine scoffed, sliding her fingers through her straight hair. “They wanted to give Rachel Duncan my position, Cosima.”_

_The brunette’s eyes widened as she shook her head disbelievingly. “And? What about it?”_

_“I fired her this morning.”_

_“So this is a pride thing,” retorted Cosima._

_“No. This is a professional thing. For me— and for you.” The shorter woman remained unconvinced, prompting Delphine to continue. “For the past year, you have been working for me, non? Getting my coffee, fetching my dry-cleaning, scheduling my appointments, traveling with me, running to buy me tampons at 2 in the morning, running out on dates to answer my every beck and call.” Cosima remained frozen in place, staring at her superior with a blank expression that offered the Frenchwoman no hint as to what the tiny American was thinking. “And what would the point of all that have been if Rachel takes my place, hmmm? You know she will fire you to spite me and your dreams of becoming a writer will be gone. You’ll be back at the starting line in your early 30s with nothing to show for yourself. Is that what you want?”_

 

Cosima submitted begrudgingly, agreeing to go forth with Delphine’s absurd and immoral plan. They traveled to the immigration office only to find that their case was to be monitored by an agent in order to ensure that the marriage was, in fact, valid; and that’s how the pair ended up on a plane to Canada to see Cosima’s family and have their wedding. 

 

 

 ∆∆∆

 

 

The 7-47 rattled, jarring Cosima from sleep and attention to the trembling woman beside her.

 

“Ms. Cormier? Are you okay?”

 

“Merde. I forgot how much I hate flying,” admitted the blonde nervously as the plane hit another pocket of turbulence.

 

Maybe in other circumstances, Cosima would’ve laughed at her boss; seeing a figure of power who tormented her for close to a year, being tormented in return with something as trivial as a shaking seat. Cosima could only grimace at the look of fear on the Frenchwoman’s face.

 

“C’mere,” whispered Cosima softly, taking Delphine’s right hand in hers, stroking her pale knuckles with her thumb. Delphine stared at their hands for a long moment, fighting off the thought that Cosima’s hand fit far too perfectly in hers. Knuckles painted white, Delphine’s left hand remaining planted on the armrest beneath her as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 

“Hey, concentrate on my breathing, okay? In… out… in… out, you can keep your eyes closed, you’re doing great,” commended Cosima, her warm breath tickling the skin on Delphine’s milky neck.

 

Delphine shut her eyes again, following Cosima’s gentle commands, feeling warm inside from the careful attention the brunette was kindly offering her.

 

After a few minutes, Cosima interjected. “Hey, scaredy cat? You can open your eyes now.” And Delphine did, immediately finding Cosima’s eyes and voluntarily getting lost inside them. “How are you feeling?” Cosima inquired, dipping her head to better inspect how the rest of Delphine’s body was coping with the anxiety.

 

Delphine became painfully aware of how dry her throat as she was trying to formulate speech. As Delphine swallowed a few times, she couldn’t help but notice Cosima’s attentive stare roaming her body. She reveled in how the dreadlocked woman’s chocolate irises outlined every dip and curve of her own trembling body and how, as Delphine took one deep breath, Cosima’s eyes found purchase on the creamy expanse of skin on her chest, sprinkled with birthmarks her mother reassured her were as beautiful as the constellations mapping the sky.

 

“Bon.”

 

Cosima’s eyes traveled up Delphine’s face at an agonizingly slow pace. Cosima took note of how Delphine’s lip was, once again, trapped beneath her canines, before flicking up to meet Delphine’s glossy gaze. “Just good?” A lopsided grin making its debut on the tiny American.

 

“Mmm c'est vrai, très bon,” surrendered Delphine, playfully nudging Cosima with the side of her head.

 

Cosima snickered, poking her tongue beneath her teeth playfully before nodding her head reassuringly. “Awesome sauce. Glad to be of service, Ms. Cormier.”

 

The brunette looked away, turning to face the window as her thumb continued to run soothing circles over the back of the Frenchwoman’s palm. Cosima was almost fully enraptured by the sight of all the green trees whizzing past them below, when she heard the unmistakable French lilt whisper her name.

 

“Hmm?” Cosima whipped around, offering a smile to the woman beside her as Delphine licked her lips subconsciously. Cosima chose to ignore the pink muscle that traveled along the plush flesh of Delphine’s lips, keeping her eyes locked onto Delphine’s hazel eyes. She looked stunning with her hair braided up and light make-up contouring her perfect face. Delphine’s black, button-down shirt was open at the top, revealing a small section of her chest. She wore a dark pair of maroon skinny jeans that made Cosima want to take a long, cold shower, and a charcoal belt that allowed her to tuck in her shirt, advertising her impeccable waistline.

 

“Call me Delphine?” The words were soft and came across timid, almost a plea, shocking the brunette to her core. It was as if the Parisian was afraid of what? Rejection?

 

Smiling, Cosima nodded cheerfully, “Delphine.” As Cosima tested out the name on her tongue, the Frenchwoman felt lighter than air. She never allowed her subordinates to call her by her first name, and even having Cosima as an assistant for a year didn’t prepare her for this new level of “personal;” as trivial as it sounded. Her face became flushed and Cosima grinned wickedly at the sight of it, proud of this newfound effect she seemed to have on the blonde.

 

“Merci.”

 

The plane was silent except for the occasional announcements from the pilot and crew. Delphine was about to close her eyes when her seat shook once more, teeth rattling at the rapid and unexpected fluctuation in altitude.

 

“P-putain d-d-de Merde!” Delphine squeaked as the final jolts of the turbulence receded into a flat-line.

 

Cosima ignored the daggers fellow passengers shot at Delphine as she, herself, remained motionless, staring at their hands. Although Delphine’s right hand never left the confines of her own, it was the introduction of Delphine’s second appendage that rendered Cosima speechless. Hands now enveloped by Delphine’s, Cosima noted the gleaming band circling one of Delphine’s long, slim fingers– her engagement ring.

 

“It’s okay, Del,” soothed Cosima with a shaky breath, causing the woman she was addressing to turn and meet her face. It was then that Cosima realized how close Delphine’s lips were… she barely caught the words of ‘thanks’ rolling off the appendage claiming all her attention, when the other woman’s head shifted forward and rested on her shoulder.

 

“Wake me up when we land?”

 

The bespectacled woman offered her an affirmative “mmmhm” before they both drifted off into a blissful slumber.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile... I know... finals were super tough and school got the best of me, but heeeeeey, better late than never... right?  
> Hopefully the quality is alright. I'm really picky with certain aspects of my writing and sometimes stuff feels a little too... euh.. like, not enough? Like there could be more detail or more emotion in places– I'm working on it. 
> 
> Anyway, the more support and comments you guys give me, the faster i'm bound to work on this shit show. Thanks for reading, you rock.

The Day Before

 

_“Non. This will not do,” tssked Delphine upon entering the packed immigration office, grabbing an out-of-breath Cosima by the elbow and dragging her towards the front of the service line, passing an obscenely lengthy line of loud, aggravated customers._

_“Ms-s-s. Cormier,” stuttered Cosima, “stop.”_

_Ignoring her secretary, Delphine arrived at the front of the line, effectively cutting off a pregnant woman who must’ve been waiting for over two hours, and stepping towards the front kiosk._

_“Here, I’ll need you to file this fiancé visa– merci,” demanded Delphine (tacking on the pleasantry a little too late for sincerity’s sake) as she handed the overweight man at the desk a purple folder with a smile that both made Cosima want to gag and apologize to the entire building._

_The man accepted the papers begrudgingly, shooting the woman a disgusted look before glancing at Cosima as if to say, ‘really?’_

_Cosima crinkled her nose, shifting in place awkwardly as she mouthed an apology that the man, thankfully, noted before opening the package and flipping through its various documents._

_“Hmmmm.” The man looked up at the pair with a raised brow before standing up from his seat. “You two are going to gave to come with me.” The smile he sported as he led the duo towards the back of the room was broaching on criminal, obviously enjoying whatever torment was about to foresee the rude Parisian and enabling American._

_Shit. “I have a bad feeling about this,” whispered Cosima after the man bid them ‘adieu,’ promptly skipping away from the lion’s den– a cluttered office belonging to…_

_“I’m Immigration Officer Paul Dierden, and you two must be my new clients,” chuckled Dierden as he strutted into the room. Delphine chuckled politely, trying to ease a nervously perspiring Cosima into acting normal in the process with a light (and exceptionally awkward) pat on the knee._

_Messing with the bangles on her wrists apprehensively, Cosima joined the others with forced laughter a tad too late, the others having already ceased their phony laughter, leaving the brunette to choke on the thickness of the room._

_Delphine cut Cosima off with a forceful grab of the knee, causing the brunette to grit her teeth in the hopes of concealing a yelp of discomfort._

_“So I have a question for you,” began Paul after sitting down on the plush leather chair behind his desk. “Are you both committing fraud to avoid her deportation so she can keep her position as editor-in-chief of DYAD Books?” The way the man casually spouted the accusation (and quickly at that) raised the hairs on Cosima’s spine, leaving her mouth uncomfortably dry._

_Sensing Cosima’s horror, Delphine grabbed her inferior’s hand reassuringly, the other woman too stunned to pull away. “Mr. Dierden, of course not,” laughed Delphine hotly. “I’m almost insulted you would accuse us of such a thing to begin with.”_

_Paul eyed the woman sitting across from him skeptically, calling their bluff and gleefully reveling in it. Releasing a crooked smile, the man raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Okay Ms… Niehaus— Ms. Cormier,” he drawled as he read their names off the documents in his large, calloused hands. “Let’s play.” That smile again… he fucking knows!!!_

_Cosima wanted to throw up. This was going so badly, it physically hurt her to be in the room with the powerhouse bitch and vindictive immigration officer. Each careful ministration of the blonde’s thumb against the top of her thigh left Cosima more afraid for what was to come. Delphine never touched her— in fact, Delphine refused to touch anyone (and even though Cosima knew for a fact that Delphine’s hands were unnaturally soft, at this very moment, it became all the more apparent how her skin was more like sand-paper, rubbing her raw and leaving her reeling), it was as if she was liable to self-destruct on the premise of any and all human-physical contact. The fact that the woman was opting to “comfort” Cosima now… made her all the more worried._

_“This is how it’s going to work,” began Paul, clapping his hands together before folding them atop his desk. “Step One: scheduled interview— put you each in a room and we’ll ask you every little question a real couple would know about each other.” Barely leaving room for a response, but obviously expecting one, Cosima began to nod shakily before Paul continued his monologue with a wicked smile plastered on his face. “Step Two: I dig deeper— I look through your phone records, I speak to your neighbors, I interview your neighbors, I interview your coworkers. If your answers,” he eyed the couple playfully, “don’t match up at **every** point, you will be deported. **INDEFINITELY** ,” he threatened, pointing a fat finger at Delphine. Deadpanning to Cosima he supplemented, “and you, young lady, will have committed a felony. Punishable by a fine of up to $250,000 and a stay of five years in federal prison.” Peering into her eyes– or her soul, really– Dierden loosened his posture, rolling his neck. “So… Cosima. You want to talk to me?” _

_Time, for the brunette, seemed to stop as two miniature people appeared atop her shoulders. One, an unfortunately, devilishly delicious looking, blonde Frenchwoman with red lips that Cosima could only imagine tasted of expensive, red French wine and sin; and on the other, a man no older than 35 with bulging arms, fair skin, and a chiseled face that practically screamed, “JUSTICE,” sat perched on her shoulder._

_“Cosima,” whispered miniature Delphine, “everything is fine, Mon Cherie. Lie for me…” Cosima trapped her bottom lip between her teeth to prevent it from shaking before the miniature Parisian added, “I’ll make it worth your while…” Her French lilt almost made Cosima pass out right there from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach mixed with the inescapable nausea the other figure on Cosima’s shoulder added to her conscious._

_“Ms. Niehaus, you are an intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t throw it away for someone who does not care about you,” advised the mini-man sympathetically. “What are you getting from this charade anyway?” Before the man could continue, a small, red high-heel whacked Paul Dierden on the head, forcing the figment of Cosima’s, rather creative, imagination to disappear indefinitely._

_The mini-Parisian stroked Cosima’s cheek with the back of her hand seductively, concurrently peppering kisses along her jaw. “You have leverage, Mon Cherie. You do this for me and I, Delphine Évelyne Cassandre Cormier, am at your mercy…”_

_The dreadlocked woman found her lips subconsciously molded into her Cheshire grin once a very real, very intimidating, very large Officer Dierden whipped her back into reality with a pointed cough._

_“Ms. Niehaus?”_

_Cosima shook her head, offering the man an assertive ‘no.’_

_“Nnnooooo?” Cooed Dierden, fishing for a confession he was more than sure existed beneath Cosima’s cracking exterior._

_Cosima bit the inside of her cheek, forced once again to consider the repercussions for doing Ms. Cormier this favor. Acquiescing, she nodded her head sluggishly, her conscious shrieking for her to escape the room, or at the very least, admit the truth._

_Dierden smiled, a green speck of, what Delphine deduced to be, broccoli stuck between his front teeth. “Yes?”_

_“No!” Delphine bellowed, catching her outburst a second too late. Paul narrowed his eyes at her accusingly, opening his mouth to dismiss her when…_

_“The truth is—“ Cosima interrupted, clearing her throat before, and once she was positive she had the man’s attention, continuing, “Mr. Dierden, the truth is… uh, Delphine and I are just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love— but did.” Cosima tilted her head in her superior’s direction, shooting her a convincing enough affectionate lopsided grin. Delphine gave her a gentle smile in response, unsure of where this newfound confidence seemed to have sprung, taking an awkward sip of water from a bottle she snagged from her office before her impromptu immigration office date. “We couldn’t tell anyone we worked with because of a promotion I had coming up,” asserted Cosima with her canines on full display, Delphine spilling water down the front of her shirt, unleashing a strangulated gurgle of clear liquid from the back of her constricting throat. Cosima, already anticipating her boss’s response, rubbed Delphine’s back pseudo-soothingly in an in-vain attempt to contain her amusement._

_Dierden fell back into his chair, the wooden seat creaking from the shift in pressure, shaking his head as if he were slapped and trying to overcome this unanticipated social-whiplash. “Promotion?” He echoed. Delphine deadpanned from the agent to the eyes of her assistant, challenging her with a raised brow._

_Cosima could only smile. And what Delphine found, perhaps the most disturbing out of all of today’s new developments, was that her expression was genuine, pleased._

_“We felt it would be deeply inappropriate if I were to be promoted to editor—“_

_“—ediitoooor…” repeated Delphine incredulously._

_“—while we were… you know…” Cosima clasped her hands together to prove her point, prompting Dierden to nod in delayed understanding._

_“Have the two of you told your parents about your secret love?” Questioned the immigration officer as his eyes danced between the two._

_Delphine chuckled uneasily as she responded, “Impossible. My parents are dead. No brothers and sisters either so…”_

_Dierden nodded solemnly before turning to Cosima and repeating his inquiry._

_“No, hers are very much alive,” interjected the blonde before continuing, “well, uh, we were going to tell them this weekend.” Cosima’s eyes widened at Delphine’s input to visit her family. “Kira’s 9 th birthday, family’s coming together— we thought it would be a nice… surprise.” _

_Dierden nodded, pursing his lips, obviously impressed. “And where is this surprise going to take place?”_

_“At Cosima’s parents’ house,” Delphine shot back._

_“And where— where is that located again?” Fished Dierden once more, scribbling down notes in his notebook as he enunciated each syllable with profound clarity. Delphine had no fucking clue and the man knew, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he enjoyed watching her squirm._

_Delphine opened her mouth without any words to offer him with wide, pleading eyes; thankful the man was otherwise too preoccupied with his notes to notice this particular reaction. “Aaaaah. Why am I doing all the talking? It’s your parents’ house. Tell them where it is. Jump in.” To Cosima's chagrin, Delphine actually acted out a little dive. What are we doing? Jumping into the River of Styx to cross over into a reprehensible, iniquitous interpersonal hell?_

_Cosima narrowed her own eyes at the other woman, before, as Delphine so elegantly put it, ‘jumping in.’_

_“Scarborough.”_

_“Scarborough,” emphasized Delphine brazenly._

_“Canada,” finished Cosima, grinning wildly at Delphine’s bewildered expression in her peripherals._

_“…Ca-ca-ca-caaannnada…”_

_Paul Dierden looked up from his work, narrowing his eyes once again at the couple. “You’re going to Canada this weekend?”_

_The women answered an affirmative in unison before Cosima continued, “for a week.” Delphine hadn't missed a day of work since joining DYAD, and initially, the brunette had only requested a weekend (A SINGLE FUCKING WEEKEND) off. So yeah, Cosima was going to milk this shit._

 

_The room became silent as Dierden scrutinized the American and Parisian, completely annoyed at the route they chose to take by lying to his face instead of taking the out he, so generously, offered them. Shaking his head, the man dropped his pen dramatically, the utensil obnoxiously slamming against the desk for effect. “Fine. I see how this is going to go. I’ll see you both on your first Monday back for your scheduled interview.” Dierden stood, prompting the women follow and exit his office. “Travel safe,” he offered with empty words, lacking any real value, “—I’m looking forward to this one.”_

∆∆∆

_When Cosima walked out of the Immigration building, she had half a mind to fall on her hands and knees to kiss the ground and thank a deity she didn’t believe in for making it out of there alive sans heart attack or stroke._

_Instead, Cosima tottered to the curb and put her hands behind her head, feeling the cool autumn air fill her lungs._

_Behind her, the snap of a lighter beckoned her attention._

_Cupping her hands, the Frenchwoman managed to ignite her distastefully posh French cigarette, tossing the tool into her handbag after it served its asinine purpose._

_“So what we’ll do is, we’ll see your family, pretend we’re engaged—“ began Delphine in rapid-fire English, smoke escaping from her nostrils. “Use the miles for the tickets, I’ll compensate so we can fly first-class, but if you don’t use the miles, we’re not going.” Taking another hit, Delphine wrapped her sinfully red, luscious lips around her cigarette before exhaling in calculated puffs, meeting Cosima’s unabashed gaze. “Are you not taking notes or…?”_

_“Seriously?” Cosima spat back at the woman with furrowed brows, arms across her chest. “Were you, like, not in the room back there?” Prompted the brunette disbelievingly._

_Delphine replayed the shit-show in her mind, for what she hoped to be the last time EVER, quickly, as if she were inspecting film-reels. “What?” Cosima rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently. “Oh, oh, oh! The promotion,” concluded Delphine triumphantly upon receiving an affirmative nod from the tiny bespectacled woman facing her. “That was genius, Cosima. He completely fell for it,” added the Parisian with a proud smirk as her lips met the filter of her cigarette. Dropping the bud to the ground, she casually extinguished it with the tip of her high-heel. Cosima grimaced at the litter, never being a fan of tossing cigarettes, or even joints, to the ground for nature to dispose of._

_Suddenly, with all the finesse of a baby doe taking its first steps, Delphine’s words sunk in– she thought Cosima was bluffing. Hah, cute. “I was serious,” spat Cosima, deadpanning from the concealed cigarette to Delphine’s questioning eyes. “I’m facing a $250,000 fine AND five years in prison. **THAT** changes things,” enunciated Cosima with profound, damning clarity. _

_It suddenly struck Delphine how she couldn’t recall a time Cosima ever spoke in such a slow, calculated manner. He words were almost always slurred together in haste, unable to make themselves known to the world fast enough as her hands danced in the air with unmatched enthusiasm. Delphine could count on one hand, maybe, the number of instances that jovial gusto was directed at her, and while she normally wouldn’t care, a “microscopic” part of her wished Cosima radiated that warmth towards her. Then again, it’s not as if Delphine did much better on her part. Delphine never did anything to make work easier for the brunette, and regardless, Cosima always tried to impress. Delphine always saw this eagerness as a flaw– as a way coworkers could take advantage of the over-eager, aspiring editor. After all, Delphine did. A part of her enjoyed the game of seeing how far she could push the brunette, even managing to get the other woman to fetch her tampons at ungodly hours and deliver food to her residence for no other reason than interrupt her dates._

_Before she could catch it, a chuckle bubbled from behind her lips. “Promotion to editor,” recalled Delphine inquisitively. A small smile ghosted its was across Cosima’s lips before Delphine humorlessly added, “no way.”_

_Cosima shrugged even though her body, somehow, simultaneously sagged in defeat, chest confidently puffed out. “That’s totally fine.” The silence following the proclamation was deafening. “Then I quit and you’re screwed. Have a great day, Ms. Cormier. Working for you was a total treat. I'll cherish those moments forever.” Delphine barely had the time to react when the short woman turned and began walking away._

_“Co-si-ma! Cosima! COSIMA! WAIT!” Yelled Delphine, reaching for the space Cosima’s body previously occupied. The dreadlocked woman turned back around, feigning disinterest as she met the Parisian’s vulnerable glare. Cosima would never admit it, but the whole ‘wounded puppy look’ looked pretty cute on Delphine. “Fine,” she groaned, once Cosima returned, “I’ll make you editor. If you do the Canada trip and immigration interview... I will make you editor. Happy?” Delphine smiled weakly, refusing to beg, but also willing to go the extra mile if Cosima was on her side._

_The brunette pursed her lips, quipping, “And not in two years. Right away.”_

_The two women stood their ground, eyeing the other as if they were about to engage in a Western shoot-out. Cosima could almost hear the infamous whistled-tune from her dad’s favorite cowboy movie playing in the background._

_“Fine.”_

_“And you’ll publish my manuscript.”_  
  
Delphine considered the proposal, glancing at her red nails absently, shrugging. “10,000 copies.”

_“—20,000 copies first-run, and we’ll tell my family about our engagement **when** I want, **where** I want, and **how** I want.” There was an unsettling pause before Cosima tilted her head and grinned mischievously, poking a pink tongue from between her teeth. “And… ask me nicely.” _

_The blonde shook her head, undoubtedly confused by the request, scrunching her nose. “Ask you nicely what?”_

_“Ask me nicely… to marry you, Delphine,” stated Cosima casually, yet making it clear that there was no getting around this particular term._

_Delphine gawked at her, opening and closing her mouth as if she had taken a bite of wasabi and couldn’t figure out what exactly to do with her tongue. “What does that even mean?” Laughed the woman humorlessly._

_“You heard me,” Cosima asserted. “On your knee.” She’s actually pointing to the fucking ground, this woman._

_To say Delphine was horrified would be an understatement; the Frenchwoman was completely out of her comfort zone. Worrying her bottom lip between pearly-white teeth, Delphine quickly glanced around them, the sidewalk bustling with men and women donning corporate attire, most likely on their lunch break. Gulping, Delphine turned back towards an expectant Cosima who kept motioning to the cold concrete sidewalk. Sighing, Delphine began her slow descent to the pavement, struggling to find a way to the ground without breaking a heel or tearing her ridiculously tight (and according to a fellow employee named Erik, extremely “fucking hot”) pencil skirt._

_“Does this work for you?” Jabbed Delphine sarcastically upon finding her knees kissing the coarse platform meant for walking– not for proposing._

_“Oh, I quite like this,” responded a genuinely pleased Cosima._

_The blonde sighed, shaking her head before meeting the brunette’s merry expression. “Will you marry me?” She didn’t mean for it to come out so candid and cynical, but it did._

_“No. Say it like you mean it,” chastised Cosima._

_Delphine cleared her throat dramatically, reminding Cosima of her older sister whenever she was about to recite some Shakespeare. “Cosima…” began Delphine._

_“Yes. Delphine.”_

_“…Sweet, sweet Cosima.”_

_“I’m listening.”_

_“Would you please, with— …how do you Americans say it? Merde— with cherries on top, marry me?”_

_Cosima won. Oh, she fucking won. Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, the woman took in a huge breath of fresh air before meeting her superior’s expectant gaze. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll take it. See you at the airport tomorrow.”_

_Relieved, Delphine smiled and offered her hand to Cosima, incorrectly assuming she would be assisted back onto her feet, as she was, instead, met with the dreadlocked woman’s retreating form._

_“Petite Merde.”_

 

_∆∆∆_

“Hey, Delphine…” Cosima bravely circled her hand around Delphine’s bicep, shaking the appendage lightly, “Wake up… I need to tell you something.”

 

Delphine shuddered under the added contact, the two having already been… cuddling?

 

“Cosima?” Muttered Delphine sleepily, fluttering her eyelids to a more cognizant state, taking in the amber orbs belonging to the woman that woke her.

 

“Uh… we’re not, like, exactly _almost_ there, but, like, I just sorta realized something important.”

 

“Mmmm,” supplied the blonde, surprisingly not too peeved for having been awoken before she had asked.

 

“You’re about to meet my family, and what not, and, like, I know everything about you and you know literally nothing about me… When we get back, we have this bloody interview and we’re totally fucked, Delphine. You need to know this shit and you don’t know anything and I’m about to go to fucking jail and I might never see my family again after this and fuck, fuck, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently brainstorming a Cophine Star Wars AU and Harry Potter fluffy AU so... be on the lookout. If you'd like to chat with me, gimme some ideas, etc, feel free to hmu on tumblr at Del-fine--come-here or you COULD go to my super hipster, super unrelated OB blog called temporarytravesty.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something that sorta popped up and won't go away, so I sat down and just wrote this whole thing out. This will probably be pretty short, maybe like 10k words total, UNLESS you would like me to go into more detail and really delve into the story with more character development, then there might be like 50k or more. So I'll leave that up to you guys.


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